Inheritance
by Judgey Fish Caretaker
Summary: "He was trapped between two destinies his name brought him, one of honor and one of domination, and he was in danger of failing both. That's why the past must die. Ren did not belong anywhere." Following Crait, Ren is burdened by his past and a visitor that was promised but he never asked for. (post TLJ/flashback [three-part fic])
1. Order

A/N: Decided to go outside my comfort zone and write a fic from Kylo Ren's perspective, and boy, was it a challenge! However, I'm excited with how it is coming out and hope you enjoy! This will be a three part fic taking place after The Last Jedi.

[Image credit: "Learning to Fly" by Jenny Dolfen]

* * *

 _"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth." –_ African Proverb.

* * *

"You're _impossible_."

A door slammed.

"You're not a walk in the park either sometimes _, sweetheart_!"

The door reopened and a shuffle of footsteps echoed from down the hall. Ben sat up from his pillow and gingerly placed his X-wing model on his nightstand. The heated exchange of words was not an unusual occurrence in his home, he merely was preparing for the inevitable fallout.

"You're just so…" Ben heard his mother's simmering temper begin to flare beneath the surface of her usual even demeanor. All the right buttons had been pushed and her voice was increasing in pitch. Leia Organa Solo had spent a significant portion of her lifetime debating and sharing hard words with stubborn politicians and enemies of the Republic alike. However, when it came to arguing with her own husband, words failed her and often came in fragmented sentences. "… infuriating!"

"Oh, I'm _infuriating_?" His father mocked. "You should try living with you some days!"

"Fine – then, just leave!"

Han Solo must have obliged because within minutes after Leia's request, Ben heard the rumble of engines outside and a roaring hum, followed by a distant boom of a ship swiftly exiting the atmosphere. The Millennium Falcon had departed Chandrila.

Ben allowed for a few minutes to pass before climbing quietly from his bed. Barefoot and in his nightwear, he effortlessly maneuvered through the dark hallway from his bedroom to his parents'. Restless nights and a need for comfort due to frightening nightmares had allowed him commit this walk to memory over the eight past years of his young life. The smooth floor felt cool under his exposed feet, the sun had been down for a number of hours now.

Once he reached his destination, Ben idled at the open door. His mother's back was to him as she sat at the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched over, bobbing up and down from ragged breathing. Ben admired her long hair that hung down her back in a loose braid. She had worn her hair in braids for as long as he could remember. Deep brown with the slightest hint of silver, like the first stars that appeared at dusk. He thought she had the most beautiful hair he had ever seen – no – she was the most beautiful woman in the whole wide galaxy.

"Ben. Come here, sweetheart." It had only taken a moment for Leia Organa to sense her young son standing at the doorframe. Being as Force-sensitive as she was, she had a knack for it and it endlessly frustrated Ben when he was caught doing something he shouldn't—such as staying up well past bed-time or attempting to snag a piece of quinberry cake from the kitchen before supper. It was truly like she had eyes in the back of her head. She hastily wiped her tears away in attempts to regain composure as Ben complied by soundlessly hopping onto the bed next to her. Leia reached for him, enveloping him in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that…" Her voice held a mixture of sadness and a twinge embarrassment. Ben assured her by shrugging indifferently in her arms.

"It's alright, Mom. I promise." Ben was enjoying the feeling of her silk sleep robe pressing against his peach fuzzed cheek and continued on. "But I don't know why you're so sad he left..." He briefly pulled away and was met with a skeptical look from his mother complete with her signature eyebrow raise. He was loyal to his father, but also honest. "You get so angry when he's here sometimes."

"Ah, from the mouth of babes…" Leia lifted a giggling Ben onto her lap as they fell back. He breathed her in, cherishing her familiar smell. She always smelt like the sweetest vanilla and lilac, especially just before bed. It should have made him sad when his father left so abruptly some days but he selfishly enjoyed their alone time together.

"I love your father very much, Ben…" Ben knew _that_. Leia began, gently tousling his thick hair with her fingers. It grew in soft dark curls that hung loose just below his ears and in his eyes. "I love his fiery spirit, his compassion." Her lips turned into a slight smile as she continued on ever so quietly, as if drifting off into a memory. "I'm convinced we're soul mates, if the Force ever does such a thing. Our paths crossed, our destinies intertwined to do good." Ben didn't appear to be listening and was now preoccupied by the delicate stitching on the hem of Leia's night robe sleeve, fiddling the lace stitches and beading. Leia pushed the top of his hair down and planted a kiss. "We were meant to create something beyond ourselves, something beautiful."

"Gross, Mom."

"Now Ben, one day you'll understand." The heavy sentiment in her voice caused Ben's attention to turn upward. Her gaze held his large brown eyes, almost mirror images of her own. "I wish that for you – to not go through life facing the galaxy and its challenges, alone."

Ben wrinkled in his nose in disgust. He was not impressed. "Not if I become like Uncle Luke!" He protested. " _He_ doesn't need to be with anyone."

Leia's expression tightened for a moment, but so brief that Ben didn't notice. "Well, we'll have to see. But for now…" Leia leaned out towards an old book that sat on the end table next to the bed. Books and stories so often came in the form of data-tapes and flimsiplast, but his mother choice of home goods always had more of a rustic flair. "How about a story before bed?" Ben's wordless answer was to nestle closer to his mother, who took this as an immediate yes.

Opened book in one hand, the pages worn as a testament to many evenings that had come before, and the other hand resting on the shoulder of her young son with the hope that there would be more evenings like these ahead, Leia began to read.

"A long time ago…"

* * *

With a hiss and a slam, the Falcon door abruptly closed as it had done so many times in the span of Ren's twenty-nine years.

And once again, like many times before, Ren was left alone.

Despite himself, Ren flinched at the noise. The sound was familiar, the pang of loneliness that followed was about as routine as muscle memory, but this heartache was different. He was so sure of what could have been, he had seen the future so vividly and been so enticed by its promises, yet the Force seemed to have other intentions entirely. Jedi of the past have been wary of falling too deep into these visions of the future, warned that an obsession of these outcomes would lead to fear of loss, unrestrained passion and emotion.

But Ren was no Jedi.

With his sight beginning to blur, Ren's attention shifted to what he held. It glinted in the sun that streamed in from the cracked outpost door, contrasting against the black of his gloved hand. It only took a moment for him to recognize the novelty dice that once belonged to his father - how could he forget? They were an ever-present decoration in the background of his childhood. There was once a time he would use the Falcon's wobbly seats, eagerly grasping for the dice as they hung from the cockpit ceiling. It would not be long until he was tall enough to reach for them on his own, his desire to be a pilot like his father once his ultimate ambition. He longed to make his father proud—maybe, just maybe it would convince his father to stay more than he did. These memories were distant and hazy. Ren did not know that earnest, young man anymore.

Just as quickly as the memories flooded back, the dice disappeared. Faded away, much like the son he once was. Ren gripped his empty hand into a tight fist.

 _Cheap trick._

Momentarily distracted, he did not notice that Hux had joined him in abandoned outpost control room – uninvited. He cleared his throat as Ren lifted himself from his kneeled position on the floor.

"Supreme Leader." Hux nearly choked while addressing him, his words strained. Ren did not need to reach through the Force to discern that the general was having a great deal of difficulty acknowledging Ren's new title. Resentful as he may be, Hux was also no fool. Though behind closed doors he scoffed at the dated, mystical ways of the late Supreme Leader Snoke and his apprentice, he had also been on the receiving end of a Force choke or two. He would play along as necessary and by some flawed logic, Ren mused, maybe Hux believed he could make it through this while landing on top.

Ren sneered inwardly. _Unlikely._

"Shall we go after them?"

"No." Ren ordered evenly without meeting the general's gaze. Hux did not attempt to disguise the disapproval that tugged at his pale features.

"But, Supreme Leader, you had just-"

"Are you questioning my orders, General?"

"No-just" Hux stammered. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing forcefully downward along with his pride. The general would have preferred to see Ren's original plan of action carried out, but he also would prefer not to be tossed across the room like a rag doll twice in one day. "It just seems rather unwise to let them go, when they have such small numbers. I'm sure we can narrow down their coordinates. We are in an advantageous position. The entire Resistance can be squashed if only-"

"Let them go." Ren said, almost dismissively. Hux's jaw locked closed at the new Supreme Leader's apparent indifference towards their current predicament, but his rage stayed locked away at the recent memory of his face meeting the metal floor. Ren pretended not to notice Hux's slowly building temper and idly tugged at the hem of his sleeve. Hux needed to be reminded of who was in command, despite the shameful spectacle that had occurred only minutes before. "What is said to have happened when a Battle Hydra is beheaded?" He could sense Hux racking his brain for an answer, but came up short on a description of this mystical creature. The Supreme Leader answered for him in a lazy drawl "Two would grow in its place." He at last turned towards the general, his expression cool and composed in comparison to his subordinate's red-faced, sullen one. "There will be no more martyrs to inspire the masses today, General. See to this."

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

Without another word, Ren turned on his heels and exited the outpost's feeble excuse for a control room. The stormtroopers that idled outside the door silently followed him to his ship, leaving a brooding General Hux behind. In the minutes before Hux would rejoin them, Ren exhaled the breath he was holding through the duration of their discussion. He had been convincing enough to temporarily rein in his rabid cur, if only to bide more time to decide how _he_ wished to handle the remaining Resistance.

His mother.

Rey.

 _"Careful, Ren, that your personal interest does not interfere with orders from Supreme Leader Snoke."_

Just as swiftly as the whisper of past threats crossed Ren's mind, they vanished.

He was the Supreme Leader now. His personal interests and orders were one in the same.

* * *

 _No one says anything to Ben, but they don't have to. He knows they all have heard._

 _The other students of the Temple are careful to avoid him in recreational spaces and the dining hall. The only time his peers acknowledge him are during dueling practice, where he is always last to be selected as a partner. Most meals Ben now spends alone. He never was a very social young man to begin with, but the isolation that this news brings is oppressive._

 _Darth Vader, the most feared and destructive being in the galaxy's history, is his grandfather._

 _His mother's father, to be exact. With tensions rising between populists and centrists, the exposure of this dark truth was undoubtedly a move to slander Leia Organa's honor and dedication to the New Republic. Although Ben should wonder how his mother was faring in all this, he didn't have much time to. Despite Uncle Luke's best attempt to shield his young nephew from this news, images of the past Sith lord and his mother are splayed across every HoloNet imaginable, to every corner of the galaxy. Not even his remote Jedi training Temple was safe from the scandal._

 _Uncle Luke attempts to reach out, but Ben rejects his advances. He knew, just as his parents did, yet Ben discovered this terrible family secret along with the rest of the galaxy. His lineage is being scrutinized by the public – and worse, his peers - and Ben suffocates under the weight. He was deceived by those who were closest to him, there is no one to turn to now._

 _But the voice comes at night, as it always has done since Ben could remember. Once shadows at the back of his mind in the form of nightmares, the darkness is now a single entity. It soothes his fears, whispers words of encouragement; it assures him that he is far more than worthy of the respect his fellow students fail to give him. He falls asleep to a sweet, sickly lullaby of affirmation. Ben Solo will do great things, it hisses. His parents, his uncle, all just fear his power. They wish to control what they do not understand, but Ben Solo cannot be controlled. He will be the most powerful being the galaxy has ever known._

 _This voice fuels him by the light of day. Once timid and gangly, Ben now fights with might and aggression. He draws power in anger, not weakness. Most of his peers are afraid but a handful watch on, intrigued. Uncle- no, Master – Luke looks on from a distance. Ben ignores his grim expression, his dark eyebrows drawn in disapproval._

 _Luke Skywalker is no longer his master. His students will never know true potential, they are being held back by the Jedi way._

 _The voice now has a name._

 _Snoke._

 _And Snoke promises Ben many things._

* * *

A/N: Oof! Hope you enjoy! As always, especially since I'm a new writer to this fandom, any feedback is appreciated! If you like what you read, feel free to stop by my profile and read my completed fic "Echoes of the Force" which is also a post TLJ story.

xox Rose


	2. Control

"Anything you may add, Supreme Leader?"

 _Caught._ Ren's attention was jerked abruptly from his reverie to the long conference table he was positioned at the head of. Officers representing ranks from order of Captain to Colonel sat along each side on the polished black surface, their uniforms in variations of gray, their faces all different ages and levels of weariness – but all their eyes now focused on him. General Hux was placed across from him at the other end, standing in front of an detailed presentation of holo images and data. There was once a time Kylo Ren could be an ominous presence over a strategic meeting, his expression concealed by a mask and his attention free to wander. Those days were long gone, left with his crumpled helmet on the elevator floor of the Supremacy amongst glass shards and debris.

Hux did not bother hiding his smug expression at exposing the distracted Supreme Leader. No one among the ranks of the First Order needed to be Force-sensitive to know his upmost displeasure with Ren's recent succession. General Hux had been diligent officer of the First Order and had personally overseen the destruction of the Hosnian system and the Resistance headquarters on D'Qar. Though his behavior was erratic and undisciplined at times, his loyalty was commendable. He would still faithfully serve the First Order, even if it meant answering to the likes of the late Supreme Leader Snoke's insufficient apprentice: the same apprentice that was defeated by a mere Jakku scavenger and left his master for dead. If Hux thought otherwise, he did not let on. There were also others who felt the new Supreme Leader was unworthy, Ren was sure of it, but none of them proved to be as brash. It'd be far too easy to dispose of him, make him an example amongst the other officers as to what happens if one were to step out of line. However, Ren could not deny the reckless General's unmatched military strategy, he was far too useful to the First Order for the time being. He predicted Hux may potentially have a shorter career than expected -amongst other things.

Before Ren could preserve his dignity with an answer, Hux continued on. "As I was explaining, we have seen an increase in small uprisings amongst the mining and agriworlds the First Order presides over. Undoubtedly, word of our encounter with the Resistance on Crait has spread through the far reaches of the galaxy. Some are feeling, shall we say, _inspired._ " He did not meet Ren's gaze, but he didn't need to. It was clear Hux felt he should have denied orders and eliminated the remaining few while he had the chance. "This revolts have not been difficult to quell, in fact-" Hux gave a proud sneer that flashed his polished teeth at the men and women who sat before him. "We have acquired information that I believe will prove to be vital in our search of the Resistance. These scum have been all too sloppy while providing aide to these worlds in their foolish attempts to overthrow us."

 _Imbecile._

Ren clenched his fist together on the table as though it would restrain the rage he felt building up inside. It had been months since the battle on Crait and they were no closer to finding the remaining Resistance than they were before. Hux's confidence that they were an easy target back on Crait was a false promise. For months he had endured baseless gloating from a _fool_. Ren did not want to hear of failed riots and the vermin that led them. He wanted _her_.

Seething while maintaining his trademark stoic appearance, Ren briskly stood up from his seat in silence as Hux self-congratulatory words droned on. He had enough for today. He had just about reached the room's exit when Hux paused to address him.

"Do you not find these findings sufficient, Supreme Leader?" Hux inquired loudly. The slight mocking in his delivery did not go unnoticed by Ren, neither did the attention of a little over a dozen pairs of eyes now resting on his back. The general was a bit more daring now with so many witnesses. He and Ren both knew that one slight tantrum was all that was needed to undermine the new leader's credibility and Ren was not about to give him that satisfaction.

He did not snatch the bait. "I have other business to attend to." Ren kept his tone as even as possible before exiting without another word. The Supreme Leader did not need to provide an explanation of his obligations and whereabouts.

Once outside the room, Ren walked through the monotonous, sleek paneled halls of the Finalizer with sudden purpose. One of the few remaining Star Destroyers, it now served as the flagship for the First Order after the destruction of the Supremacy. His officers had since detailed the suicidal attack that had occurred over Crait where a remaining rebel on the final Resistance ship had entered hyperseed straight through their unsuspecting fleet. It had been an admirable move by the rebels, Ren acknowledged, but First Order would soon rebuild.

As Ren took his long strides through the hallway he was careful not to make eye contact with anyone he happened to share the space with. This precaution proved to be unnecessary since officers of every rank actively avoided his gaze and briskly moved out of his way as he approached. Admittedly, he was once notorious for his short fuse and violent outbursts that would require months' worth of repairs but Ren was adamant that these tantrums were to be something of the past. He would be seen as a strong leader, a distinct one. His discarded mask had revealed a more human side but this did not seem to ease anyone in his presence. In fact, it was assumed that his next eruption was festering just under the surface, waiting for the first unexpected fool to cross him. Good, Ren thought. Better to be feared than ridiculed.

Ren was relieved to find his desired turbolift unoccupied and directed it immediately to the floor of his private quarters. Left in the silence of humming machinery and low white light, Ren willed his thoughts not to drift to one of his most recent turbolift memories. He was not successful.

 _"Ben..."_

Ren swallowed hard. He could not recall his name ever sounding so nice, so _gentle_. He was a man who spent years mastering the dark side of the Force for his strength, deflected attacks from countless enemies and weapons alike, and yet, disarmed by the simple sound of his birth name rolling off the lips of a young woman he knew for barely two days.

The turbolift doors opened and with a few strides and a slammed door behind him, Ren was finally inside his room. Alone.

His quarters had upgraded significantly since his recent ascension to power. His room has nearly doubled in size, providing him plenty of space for meditation and a larger bed that went untouched most evenings. It was not much different from the banausic interior of the rest of the ship, and certainly not quite as grand as what Snoke may have had onboard the Supremacy, but he was never one to indulge in fine things. Ren reflected back to his old master's charred body sitting as a stump on his black throne and surrounded by defeated Praetorian Guards who had failed to save their dark leader from his mutinous apprentice. He felt little remorse at the image.

 _"Snoke is just using you for your power. When he gets what he wants, he'll crush you."_

His late father's warning reverberated through his mind. Despite the darkness that swallowed his heart, a small voice deep in Ren's consciousness had always known this truth but he never had the strength to fight his way back. It was difficult to find the courage to fight when you believed that no one was fighting for you. It was already too late for him.

Ren unhooked his lightsaber from his hilt before gingerly placing it atop the end table by his bed, though the weight of its deeds lingered heavily on him. For years he had been so desperate to sleep, so desperate to relieve himself of the inner turmoil that threatened to tear him apart. _Let the past die, kill it if you have to_. He had been so certain that the death of his father at his hands would cut the remaining tether pulling him to the light, finally allowing him to complete his passage to the dark. His doubts would be quieted, his inner conflict ended, and his training completed.

But then, there was _her._

In a failed attempt to avoid his memories consuming him, Ren pushed himself through his evening routine. Walking over to his dresser, he began to methodically remove his ensemble before the mirror, being sure to fold each garment with care and precision: cowl, boots, gloves, then vest. Once bare-chested, he studied his reflection in the mirror, eyeing carefully his most recent additions of yellow bruises and scabbed burn marks. The Praetorian Guards were strong, but they had been stronger. _They._ The dim overhead lighting illuminated the sole scar that traveled up his chest and stopped just above his right eye. A small token given from her during one of their earliest encounters on Starkiller Base, back when they had dueled as opponents before fighting side by side shortly thereafter. Her power was immense, raw, untamed. He should have found himself alarmed by his underestimated adversary, but instead, he was drawn to her intensity. Ren reached up, his fingers tracing the scar from his jaw line to the bottom of his neck. The young woman had certainly left her mark on him, in more ways than one.

The bridge between their minds that the late Supreme Leader Snoke had taken so much pride, all while sneering at their foolishness to believe it was genuine, mysteriously remained intact after his death. Their bond had materialized between the pair countless instances since Crait - unannounced, unprovoked and at times during the most inconvenient of circumstances. She had first appeared before Ren merely days after the First Order's attack on the remaining Resistance. She sat crossed legged on the floor of the Finalizer's bridge, hunched over the split pieces of his late Master's saber with tools in her hand. As to not alert the officers that surrounded him of this unexpected presence, the stunned Supreme Leader did not attempt a move to gain her attention. Fortunately, she had been so enthralled in her task at hand that she did not take notice of him at all before she disappeared in a blink of an eye.

It was not until a few weeks later that she finally became conscious of their surviving bond. One evening while taking one of his usual walks to clear his mind, she suddenly emerged from Ren's peripheral view. In contrast to the dimly lit halls of the Finalizer, the warm light of a sun highlighted her strong figure as she intently parried against an invisible opponent. She must have felt safe wherever she was, Ren noted, as she was focused solely on her maneuvers and remained unaware of the change in her surroundings. For a few fleeting moments before she discovered him, Ren quietly admired her fluid motions and concentrated form. She was a far more polished wielder than he had first encountered back on that snow-ridden forest. Her skills were greatly improving since even their back-to-back fight for survival in Snoke's disintegrating throne room. His awe quickly turned to dread at the realization that this was all preparation for their next one, and she fully intended for them to be rivals.

With a sudden twirl of her quarterstaff overhead and a swift adjustment of her footing, she abruptly turned. At the sight of him, she froze in place. Ren's held her startled brown eyes with his own, ignoring the scavenged weapon that was pointed a few inches from his face as she continued to stare at him down the length of it. Their silence gave away to the oppressive noise of the connection's low vibrating hum and the sound of their breathing, hers labored and his stifled. From this distance, Ren could see the delicate strands of escaped hair that had matted to the beads of sweat collecting on her brow. Her cheeks were flushed pink from exertion and gradually transitioned to a bright red. Ren then watched helplessly as her mouth, first slightly opened due to mix of heavy breathing and surprise, formed into a thin, grim line. The initial shock that crossed her usual soft features was replaced with a stony scowl. Before he could move to speak, her image dissolved against the black paneled wall.

And that's how they went on. With her powers strengthening, she would sever their bond the moment she sensed it materializing. At times when she was the first to be conscious of their minds bridging, the only evidence he had of an attempted connection was the remnant of the vibrating hum in his ear.

Admittedly, those were not even the moments that brought Ren the most anguish. There would be few instances where she was too distracted by her company to take notice of the Supreme Leader's uninvited presence. Shoulders relaxed, cheeks dimpled, creased eyes from a mesmerizing smile. Simply jovial. Ren initially had winced at the sound of her laughter evoked by company hidden from his view. Was the dashing pilot he once held captive onboard this ship winning her affections? His stomach churned. He had no right to her – she had made that clear.

The longest of their connections would occur while she was sleeping, her defenses lowered, allowing the Force to move freely between them. Never being asleep himself, Ren was always alert for these moments, but to dwell with her sleeping form felt too predatory to him. He never allowed too much time to pass before he would cut the connection, but not before admiring how her hair fell across a pillow, framing her serene expression dotted with exquisite constellations of freckles. Most evenings she slept without a single stir. Other times, she would restlessly shift and mumble incoherently. He wondered what she dreamed about.

Ren should not have been all too surprised by her refusal to speak with him. He had seen that familiar look in her eye, the one she had given him from the boarding ramp of the Falcon. Betrayed. Eyes that had for the briefest most cherished time held his own with sadness, empathy, and longing had turned cold and distant. A part of Ren even preferred her once fiery hostility towards him, if only to hear her voice even if it did call him a _monster_. Her silence was agony. He knew that she felt deceived by him, but he could not help that she had been naïve – foolish enough to believe that the murder of his master at his hands meant he would join her band of thieves and traitors, that he would turn to the light.

While she blindly craved for a place in this galaxy's narrative, Ren sought to be freed of his. His lineage, his inheritance, his _family_ had only been a burden, one that had doomed him from birth. His entire life he had been a seen as a power to be controlled – whether through suppression or manipulation – and he wasn't sure if he had ever been the one in control of himself. After they had touched hands and witnessed the truth of her own abandonment revealed to him by the Force, he was so certain she would stand with him.

With their combined strength, they would put an end to the cyclical wars that plagued the galaxy.

An end to the past that haunted them both.

The Jedi, the Sith, the Empire, the Republic – it would all be finished.

They would create something new from the ashes of the past, together.

But after all he had offered her, she was the one who abandoned him. So maybe _he_ was the fool.

Now with a bared soul and undressed, Ren pulled his sleep slacks over his hips, though his efforts now seemed pointless. There would be no sleep tonight.

Throwing a loose tunic over his head, he suddenly felt subtle shift of the energy surrounding him, different from the low vibrations of the bond making itself known. He was no longer alone and it was a familiar presence. Too familiar. Blood pumping and defenses high, Ren cautiously turned to confirm who now joined him in his private quarters.

Once his bed was in view, Ren could see it was already occupied by a robed figure seated at the edge of it.

"Hey there, kid."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all for your follows and reviews! I hope you enjoyed this installment and are looking forward to the next one! It's a short little ficlet because I yet have the confidence to do anything longer than four chapters, but we'll see what more writing brings.

Random, but mostly because I'm curious, are there any of you out there that listen to certain songs/music while writing? Or anything that screams KYLO REN/BEN SOLO angst and REY and/or NEW TRILOGY while you listen to it? The songs I've been jamming to while writing this fic and last one (both Ren and Rey centric) have been:

"Sound of Silence" (Cover): Disturbed

"Love Song Requiem": Trading Yesterday

"Island": Svrcina

"Heroes": Peter Gabriel

"Moondust": Jaymes Young

And of course, the movie scores. So REQUEST. If you're lovely enough to leave a review and also have a song to share, include it! That would make my playlist so happy!


	3. Peace

**A/N _:_** WowowWOW. So that was an embarrassing amount of time before posting the final chapter. Hope my past readers are still with me! If you're new - well, you lucked out then with a completed fic, I guess!

Hopefully since it's a bit longer than previous chapters, it makes the wait worthwhile then!

Enjoy!

* * *

 _Where you see darkness_

 _I see stars_

\- Laech Min Glsain from Collected Poems, Prayers, and Meditations on the Force

* * *

 _Ren hardly recognizes the man brought before him by two of his stormtroopers as he disembarks his transport. Deep wrinkles, thinning hair, and sleepless eyes. Time had not been kind to Lor San Tekka._

 _Ren sneers "Look how old you've become."_

 _"Something far worse has happened to you." Despite appearances of weakness and his current predicament, he is quite bold. Old fool, Ren muses. Lover of the Force but lacks all sensitivity and ability. He will learn what happens to those who meddle in things well beyond them._

 _"You know what I've come for." The embers of the decimated village swirl around them in anticipation. The rest of the Jakku riff raff watch on in fear._

 _"I know where you come from – before you called yourself Kylo Ren."_

 _A surge of rage flares within Ren but he keeps his voice even while ignoring Lor's quip. "The map to Skywalker. We know you've found it – and now, you're going to give it to the First Order." He finishes with authority. He will not be discredited by this fraud in front of those he commanded._

 _"The First Order rose from the Dark side – you did not." His tenacity is infuriating and, for a brief moment, Ren is grateful that his helmet conceals his reaction to the old man's words. He grips the hilt of his saber at his side, feeling his temper slowly brim to the surface._

 _"I will show you the Dark side." He promises, hoping that Lor is unable to discern the waver in his voice through the mask._

 _"You may try." Lor replies calmly, his eyes meeting where he believes Rens' are, piercing through the mask that usually provides Ren with a sense of protection. His eyes are unsettling and Ren feels exposed. "But you cannot deny the truth that is your family."_

 _"You're so right." Ren mocks. With an ignition of his saber and a swift slash the body of Lor San Tekka, long-time member of the Church of the Force and faithful ally and confidant to Leia Organa, crumples to the ground. Ren ignores the gasps and cries of the prisoners who helplessly watch on._

 _What the old man said is true. As Lor San Tekka knew him, there is no denying who his family is._

 _But Ben Solo, and all that he was, is dead._

Let the past die.

 _Kylo Ren reigns._

Kill it, if you have to.

 _However, Ren is unable to shake off the image of the confident twinkle in his mother's friend's eyes up until his death._

* * *

By instinct, Ren summoned his saber from the end table, its path knocking his few belongings of penmanship tools and papers as it flew across his quarters. The saber ignited once in his hand, the unstable blade's crackle and hiss replacing the room's previous silence. Ren blinked hurriedly, wondering for a moment if he had indeed fallen asleep and this was all just some sort of dream.

But his eyes had not failed him. His uncle and late Jedi Master, who he had presumed to be dead, was here in this room.

However, his former master was not quite as Ren remembered. Luke Skywalker sat at the edge of his bed, his form a luminous blue in contrast to the foreboding red glow of Ren's saber. After a few deep breaths to steady his heart rate, Ren observed that his uncle was, in fact, translucent. So he _was_ dead. Such stories of these visitations were common lore amongst Jedi, padawans, and those knowledgeable with the ways of the Force. Despite being familiar with this, Ren remained baffled by his uncle's unexpected appearance.

Luke regarded him closely as if to wait for a response. Ren felt his lips part but words failed him.

"It's alright, kid." Luke said, his tone upbeat. "No need to apologize for that business on Crait." His eyes twinkled almost mischievously, his blue hue giving them an unusual allure. No doubt a failed attempt to lighten the mood. He remembered it being one of his uncle's more annoying habits.

"How..?" Ren stammered.

"Water under the bridge." Ren was certain Luke was taking a bit of pleasure from his nephew's bewilderment. He leaned back, placing his hands on his robed hips. "The amount of firepower seemed like a bit of a waste though – I'm sure it was no stroll through Corellia to defend that particular course of action."

Ren could only stare in disbelief. Luke proceeded to lift himself from his seated position at the foot of the bed, where Ren noticed the mattress did not react from the shift in weight. His uncle briefly let his eyes wander their surroundings, taking in the bleak interior of the bedchamber lit by the erratic red glow of Ren's blade. Ignoring his nephew's drawn weapon, he helped himself to a short walk around. "A nice set-up you have here." He observed, a bit too casually. "A little darker than I would prefer-"

"Why are you _here_?" Ren finally discovered his voice and his tone held no amusement. He had no time for this banter. Why was Luke Skywalker, of all people, in his quarters? As if sensing his growing impatience, Luke's attention briefly shifted back towards Ren, his smile fading from amusement to one with a shadow of sadness.

"I meant it when I said I would see you around."

Ren did not have a response for this and merely disengaged his lighsaber. A dead man was no threat to him. Physically, anyway. His eyes warily followed his former Jedi master exploring his private space, an area that no one but Ren was intended to lay eyes on. Now here he was – the great Supreme Leader – caught off-guard just before bed, in his sleepwear no less. This room held restess nights, his naked innermost thoughts. Only dreams and nightmares were meant to visit him here.

 _So had she._ He pushed out the memory of the intimate moment from his mind just as quickly as it entered.

At the notion of being so exposed, Ren felt a flash flood of rage. Had he not been humiliated enough? Luke Skywalker, the legendary Jedi, had come out of his exile and successfully undermined the new Supreme Leader's authority in front of the First Order's offenses - all while the remaining Resistance band of thieves and scum slipped through his gloved fingers. Nothing was said out loud, but Ren heard their whispers of doubt pass their thoughts and pervade the ranks of the Order. He would soon lose command if he did not act quickly. Ren took in another deep breath in order to ground himself. Nothing would be accomplished by an outburst right now.

Quelling his anger at a low simmer, Ren studied Luke with new interest. In addition to his blue complexion, the man standing there had a few stark differences from the man he had encountered on Crait. Ren noted his tangled hair that fell below his shoulders, white and gray sprinkled throughout. He was so much older than Ren had remembered. If he had not known any better, he would have described Luke Skywalker as wise and almost gentle, like the Jedi in tales he had heard so much about as a child. Maybe he even resembled the man whose name he had carried - Obi-Wan Kenobi - undoubtedly with his family's hope he would fulfill a similar legacy of honor.

He had not.

His mind flashed to the small hut, the scene of so many of his nightmares. He thought of the gleam of green in the eyes of a man about to take a fatal blow.

Luke did not think so either.

Despite himself, Ren's thoughts briefly returned to that fateful evening. He was afraid, yes, but he remembered the pang of loneliness most of all. The dread. If his uncle, the one who had been appointed to guide him through the enigmatic ways of the Force, was willing to kill him out of fear of his potential, what choice did Ren have? Where could he have turned? He was not the first to abandon Ren.

The memory of waking on the hard, sleek floor of the decimated throne room and the discovery of her departure that followed washed over him like a frigid wave.

He was also was not the last.

Luke finally approached the black paneled stand subjected to the far corner of Ren's quarters. Reverently placed a top, the gnarled and distorted mask of the late Darth Vader.

Luke reached out and gingerly touched the surface, his blue fingers illuminating the charred edges. "I should have known." He spoke in almost a whisper. "I'm so sorry, Ben." Ren winced at his words.

"It's a bit too late for apologies." He spat impulsively.

Luke ignored his nephew's hostility. "I have a lot of regrets. I wish we had been more honest with you from the start. Who your family was, what you were capable of…" His words trailed off as he turned from his father's mask to face Ren. The sparkle that glinted in his eyes earlier had dulled into sorrow. He looked so _weak_. He was no son of Vader. "Maybe things would have turned out differently."

"I know what decisions I made." Ren's voice rose in volume with each word. "I did what I had to do to survive!" He was becoming more irritated now. He was not some broken child – he was a grown man – one that now controlled the galaxy. He was succeeding in what no one before him had done before.

"Ah, as all Skywalkers have done." Ren despised how his uncle's sad smile briefly twitched into a knowing smirk. "The Skywalker curse. Powerful blood, powerful responsibility that has weighed us down with each passing generation. We have all broken from its weight, one way or another. We've surely made a mess of things."

Ren watched as Luke's gaze solemnly returned to his grandfather's legendary likeness. A small voice from inside him longed to tell his uncle that this helmet, once a source of his devotion and reverence, now only brought him misery at the sight of it. An ever-existing reminder of his grappling for power, but also, a symbol of his failure to live up to the illustrious path his Skywalker lineage had set for him. He was trapped between two destinies his name brought him, one of honor and one of domination, and he was in danger of failing both. That's why the past must die. Ren did not belong anywhere.

"Not your mother though." At the mention of his mother, Ren returned from his inner dialogue of self-deprecation. "An unparalleled force of compassion and devotion to mend the galaxy together while it insists on falling apart." His smile grew at the thought of his dear sister, his eyes creasing in the corners. "Her legacy will outlive us yet."

"She never mentioned him." Ren spoke quietly. Luke's eyebrows rose as he glanced back to his nephew, taken aback by the softened demeanor that had replaced the earlier fiery storm. Ren swallowed, willing the words to form. "Not even after, when I finally knew."

"And why would she?" Luke implored darkly. "He has gone down in history as the most terrible being to have ever lived. He brought pain and destruction to all that she knew and loved: a legacy of power and brilliance outweighed by devastating cruelty." Though never spoken of amongst his family, Ren knew all this. There was little point in avoiding this conversation with a dead man – one of them had all the time in the galaxy. "Then he turned in the end…" Ren's interest piqued. This was not something he knew much of. "Time has buried this truth to myth and your mother, well, she never quite believed me. She was in this war long before I was. She lost so much, she continues to lose so much."

Ren wondered what his mother must think, to have a son who followed the legacy of a man who she cursed the blood she shared with. His hatred and anger had never allowed him to dwell on this rumination for too long. He had been selfish. They all had been.

Luke took Ren's silence as permission to continue. "You're like Vader." The words, which once would have filled Ren with pride, now only stung. "But not in the ways you think. You are strong in the Force and have always been wise beyond your years, even as a child. This made you susceptible to those on the Dark side, seeking powerful individuals to weigh the Force in their favor." Ren heard the regret cracking in his voice. Even the legendary Luke Skywalker could not prevent this fate for his own blood. "But despite all you've done, you are willing to do anything for those you feel compassion for. A truth of Vader's former self, Anakin Skywalker, that has been lost in time."

Ren knew where this was headed. His face suddenly grew warm despite the thin material of his sleepwear and the near frigid temperature of the recycled air on the Finalizer. He maintained his reserved expression though he anticipated his old master would see right through these fruitless efforts.

"So, what became of Snoke?"

"He's dead." His reply devoid of any lingering emotion, he hoped.

"Ah, I see." Luke did not have to say anything more. The truth behind Snoke's demise was an unspoken understanding. " _Rey_."

At the sound of her name he had denied himself in the months following Crait, Ren felt an unrestrained wave of emotions crash over him. It was tumultuous, a dizzying composite of despair, desire, fervor, grief, and memories. Back to back, the fabrics of their clothes had brushed together as their minds intermingled, sharing of motives and strength through their bond. It was as though both of them held a finger to a pulse of the Force, a heartbeat only revealed to them. In all of his experience from his early days of training at the academy, Ren had encountered countless Force-sensitive peers. Nothing held a candle to what he felt when he was alongside her. So in sync, a hum of renewed energy that caused his entire being to tingle with anticipation. Nothing had ever come close.

So when she denied his proposal, he was left wounded and bewildered. Did she not feel what he felt? Maybe she was too inexperienced – too young – to fully comprehend what they had shared, what they had accomplished. They had narrowly escaped death from the hands of some of the most feared beings in the galaxy. Yet, she did not run with him. Her loyalty to the Resistance was too great, along with her naïve belief that this rebellion would bring about peace. Rebellions had come and gone over the generations with different names, none of them succeeding the visions they had promised. Lack of control had always left a void for chaos to fill.

Ren inwardly grimaced at his mind's image of his hand desperately reaching out to her, just short of begging on his knees. _You're nothing_. As he was nothing. _But not to me._ He yearned to hear her profess that he meant something to her too. He wondered if even in death Luke could sense the raging storm presently inside of him.

"I had warned her, but she did not listen." Ren experienced unfamiliar sensation of his heart skipping a beat at the discovery of this defiance. "Both of you were foolish," Luke exhaled an exasperated sigh. "But lucky. Very lucky. You always did keep me on my toes though, Ben." His uncle's tone almost resembled pride.

Ren almost did not notice the use of his birth name, his pride now having been replaced by profound longing. "Where did she come from?"

Luke furrowed his brow, giving long pause.

"The Jedi Order's hubris, narrow sight, and denial of the part they played in all of this had been their demise. The Jedi, the Sith, are both responsible for the cyclical struggle for power that has dominated generations. The Force always balanced powerful darkness with powerful light, and in turn, great light with great darkness." Luke pursed his lips, selecting his following words carefully. "After… all that happened…there was a time where I believed by removing myself from the known galaxy, I could help save it. If I did not exist, the ways of the Force could not match my light. There would be peace by my action. Like the Jedi before me, I was also arrogant." His eyes turned downward in shame "I shut myself from the Force, only for it to enter through…a young girl."

 _I warned my young apprentice as he grew stronger his equal in the light would rise. Skywalker, I assumed._ Snoke's calculating snicker echoed in Ren's mind. _Wrongly._

After years of haunting Ren through his adolescence, drawn to his lineage and name, exploiting him for his powerful blood, Snoke's twisted efforts were all but met with his own grisly death at the hand of his apprentice. How ironic, Ren mused, that Snoke would fall for the sake of a young woman who held no title or great family name.

A no one.

"Your saber. It chose her." Ren broke his guarded silence. Luke raised an eyebrow and listened with interest. Undoubtedly he had seen her with this Skywalker heirloom when she discovered him at the first Jedi Temple, but the details of its acquisition may have been omitted. Luke walked slowly from the helmet's display as Ren hungrily continued on, his voice a desperate plea to make sense of all this. "Her natural ability with the Force is nothing like I've ever seen. My abilities, attuned through years of training, were matched as if it was merely was natural to her."

 _You were unbalanced. Bested by a girl who had never held a lightsaber._

"How is this is possible." He finished breathlessly. There it was. His doubt, uncertainty, vulnerability, all bared. There was no used at pretending he had all the answers anymore and that the Dark side was able to provide them. With Luke closely standing in front of him, Ren additionally became acutely aware of how he towered over the late Jedi master. He was no more than thirteen when his height had exceeded most of that of his family members, but he had been gangly and thin. Sixteen years later he was more broad and built in comparison, but was certain that Luke Skywalker would have remained a worthy opponent in life.

"I don't know why the Force selected this young woman…" Luke confessed. As he shook his head, blue hues of low light danced on the walls around them. "Considering her parentage and upbringing."

Ren was gripped with sudden fury towards his uncle. Of course Luke had known. How very predictable of him, to withhold the identity of her parents from her as though it was some great overarching lesson on a flawed Jedi path of self discovery. _Pointless._ For a fleeting moment, Ren thought of the possibility his had uncle attempted to protect her from the burden of her dismal past and had learned nothing from his own, but they both knew she had known the truth for some time.

"I initially dismissed her when she appeared to me on the island." Luke admitted, his voice slow. "I had sworn to myself that I would never take on a new apprentice, not after all that had happened."

 _An island?_ Ah, so the First Temple was on an island. Isolated, a towering mass of ancient rock and green, surrounded by water that reflected the moods of the sky for as far as the eye could see. Yes, he had already seen this island while invading the depths of her mind on StarKiller Base. He had once speculated how a scavenger from Jakku was able to visit such a vivid place in her dreams, a scenic landscape that would have been impossible for one to conjure with experience being limited to a desert wasteland. It was not until this moment it occurred to him that she may have known of the First Temple all along, well before her path fatefully crossed with that of the BB unit he so desperately sought out after.

The pieces were all coming together for Ren now with such an intensity he felt as though he could lose balance right where he stood. _Don't be afraid_ He had urged to her, but it had been the one who was afraid for what was to come. So very afraid.

While processing all of this, Ren had brought his hands to his face, and in a pitiful attempt to calm himself, massaged his closed eyes with his fingers. Reds, blues and grays danced behind his eyelids but no attempts would produce that desired outcome of opening his eyes to an empty room to be alone with his thoughts and new revelations.

"I had wondered why she was the one sent by the Resistance to fetch me, just another lost soul in this vast galaxy." Luke pressed on "But her raw power was something I had not seen since…" Ren sensed his uncle's eyes boring into him now but he avoided his gaze. Luke spoke the next words with purpose. "Not since you, Ben."

There it was.

What Ren had seen unfolding, what both feared and fascinated him since he had initially taken her as a hostage off of Takodana. At the time he believed her to be merely a scavenger girl, one who had wound up tangled in a galactic war through a series of unfortunate circumstances and meetings. No, he had been so naïve to what was happening. As Luke surmised earlier, the Force had selected her as its vessel to maintain its balance. Abandoned as a child and forced to raise herself amongst smugglers and thieves, she did not deserve this burden of this fate.

That was not all. Luke's saber choosing her in the forest, his mother taking her under her wing amongst the Resistance, her great admiration for his father in the brief time she knew him, his master and uncle taking her on as his apprentice for the remainder of his life, and now her possession of the Falcon…

So she did have a part in this narrative she longed for. She was intended to become the Jedi he failed to be.

"What then?" Ren snarled as his bare hand gripped at his side, the very one that had once reached for her own. "Is she meant to follow some prophecy to destroy me?" He blinked hurriedly, willing the tears not to fall as his vision clouded. His reaction unnerved him. He was certain that he would not have the will to fight back if he ever faced her again. She would indeed be his downfall.

As if in a trance, Luke unexpectedly straightened his previously defeated, hunched posture. He held Ren's eyes as his glazed over, almost as though receiving a premonition.

"Amazing. Everything you said is wrong."

Ren flinched at Luke's seemingly nonchalance. What could he possibly mean? Ren had witnessed his uncle's saber and its kyber crystal split in two as a consequence of their opposing powers. Their story could not end any other way.

"When will it all be finished? The Jedi, the Sith, they have brought nothing but destruction to this galaxy for centuries." Ren shouted, nearly maniacally. Luke withheld a reaction while watching his nephew fly into this fit of passion, his impassive expression highlighted by the soft blue glow. "Why do you refuse to see it for what it is?! Both parties are guilty for the vacuums of power they leave behind in their wake. This is where chaos festers and the galaxy's inhabitants are its victims." Ren took a long stride towards Luke until he was only a short arm's length away. Luke did not shy away from Ren as he towered over him. "The past needs to die." He hissed through his gritted teeth, his voice low with emphasis. For a fleeting moment he imagined her, standing by his side overlooking all that they've accomplished. Prosperity, order, and peace. The image faded as quickly as it formed. "I'll end it all, and then, I will bring something new that this galaxy has never seen before."

"You're right." Ren faltered at Luke's simple response, taken back by his confidence. "But it is not going to go the way you think. Ben," His tone grew softer but did not lose authority. "You have the power to bring something new to this galaxy, but it won't be by killing it.

The gentle sincerity in his voice momentarily threw Ren off-guard. "What are you trying to say?"

"Your dependence on the Dark will destroy you. No amount of armies you may amass or systems you control will not eventually slip through your fingers. It is inevitable." Luke's eyebrows were drawn in, his words spoken as though prophecy. "Don't be a fool. Learn from who came before you. Nothing has ever stood the test of time by existing in absolutes. Governments nor people."

"What do you know of my abilities? I've become far more powerful than the boy you introduced a lightsaber to, Uncle." Ren relished the hint of anguish that briefly crossed Luke's features. "If your intent was to come back from the dead to save my soul, it's too late. Your efforts would be in vain."

"No, I cannot save you." Ren was unable to interpret his own reaction to this honest admission. Was it satisfaction at Luke's defeat or disappointment that pooled in the pit of his stomach "In the peak of their influence, the Jedi Order had lost sight of the very foundation from which we built ourselves…"

Luke held Ren's eyes before uttering the next word " _Balance_."

Ren was transported back to the memories he was invited to by a soft touch of her hand. He could see it now. There was an aged mosaic on the ground that sat just below a shallow pool of collected water, a portrait of a Jedi delicately aligned between a series of black and white shimmering rocks that glittered with the setting sun. Ah yes, he remembered it vividly. Undoubtedly it was something she had seen on the island where the remnants of the First Temple lay, but he wondered why it was so significant as to hold a place in the forefront of her mind. He did not have much time to mull over it as Luke continued hastily, his eyes wild with the passion comparable to that of a preacher found at the temple steps on Jedha.

"An acknowledgement of the light and dark within ourselves and the truth of our character based on the decisions we make. In their abandonment of these ideals and arrogance, the Jedi Order shunned a young boy whose only crime was missing his mother. Their condemnation of him from the early darkness they discovered inside only encouraged it to fester until it all but destroyed him…and them." Luke exhaled deeply. "The Jedi Order doomed Anakin Skywalker, but it was his thirst for power and control of his destiny and those around him that sealed his fate as Darth Vader. Even my mother's great love for him could not save him unless he was willing to save himself."

 _You'll turn, I'll help you._ Her offer a whisper across Ren's memory caused his heart to thunder in his chest.

As if hearing his thoughts, Luke offered a sincere smile.

"No one is every truly gone. There was a time where I knew this…" His light eyes glittered with new vigor that Ren swore the light being emitted by his form also increased in brilliance. "I just needed reminding."

No _. Impossible._ Had death been so kind to have made Luke Skywalker forgetful of the atrocities his compromised apprentice had committed, the younglings that had been murdered in cold blood? What of the villages, cities, and entire systems terrorized into submission and bowed to his regime out of fear? Why did he act ignorant of who brought his dear friend, and brother, to his demise? Ren did not deserve such grace.

He was a monster.

"You promised me on Crait you would destroy her. You won't, and you know why?" Luke declared, a smirk playing on his lips. "You've inherited your father's heart." Unlike the late Supreme Leader who had once expressed this to Ren as if it was something foul and shameful, Luke shared his observation tenderly before adding humorously "You also share his fascination for sassy brunettes."

How lightly Luke referred to his compassion favorably as opposed to a flawed weakness. Ren was shaken to the core by his gesture of mercy given to him - after all he had done.

"Listen to me. The Force will find a way. There will be others like her, but there will also be others like you. Take what I've said, learn from my failures and the failures of those who came before you. Please." He pleaded. "Don't let others fall. I have hope for you still."

Hope.

 _Skywalker lives. The seed of the Jedi Order lives. As long as it does, hope lives._

Snoke was right. The seed of the Jedi Order did live.

Blinded by his own vanity, it had stood beside him for over a decade.

In the end, it had slain him.

The room shifted around Ren, his head spinning and dizzy from Luke's proclamation. He extended his hand out to the wall in a desperate attempt to steady himself from the sudden weight that fell on his shoulders.

"Rey will be a Jedi, but she will not be alone." Ren saw now that Luke's form was gradually fading. His private quarters were returning to their usual darkness at the dimming of his blue glow. "Heed my words and break this cycle. Bring balance. The fate of the galaxy depends on it."

He was losing time. "But Master Luke, I-"

"We will see each other again, Ben."

With his promise and small smile his uncle vanished.

Ren remained still for a few moments and waited for the wave of nausea to pass. His head was spinning and his legs were weak. His free hand combed through his hair beaded with sweat, his forehead clammy and cold to the touch. For one who prided himself on stoicism and control, there were few times he had felt so disoriented as he did now.

Eventually the screaming in his head subsided and his labored breathing calmed to a normal pace as he steadied himself onto his two feet. However, a new sound of a distressed whimper in his private quarters warned him that he was not yet alone. Ren's eyes rapidly scanned the dimly lit confines of his room to seek out the source of the soft cries, his gaze once again falling on that of his bed. A new form had taken shape there, but unlike the luminous blue of his uncle, the figure appeared just as solid as he was.

There it was, the vibrating hum in his ear. He should have known.

Wrapped in a tattered quilt, Ren recognized at once from the Falcon, there she was. Shivering in his childhood relic from the chill of deep space, she pulled the fabric underneath her chin in a deep sleep as her mouth gave out a low whimper. From where he stood, Ren could see her cheeks were streaked with tears. A nightmare, no doubt. He was all too familiar. He resisted the urge to reach out and comfort her. Luke Skywalker may have great knowledge of the Force and its cryptic ways, but he was wrong about this. She would never reciprocate an offer of an alliance or any feelings he may possess. It was too late, too much had passed between them. She would never have him.

Following his usual routine, Ren was about to sever the connection until he heard her cry out.

"Ben!"

His blood ran cold as he stopped in his tracks, straining to hear more. So, was he the cause of her nightmares now? His stomach turned sour at the revelation.

"Ben…" His birth name now came in a whisper. Ren hesitantly walked over to his bed that was currently mirroring the bed she slept on in the Millennium Falcon in an unknown system potentially light years away. Standing over her, he observed how her hair was tussled across the thin pillow from her evening of unrest, escaped strands matting themselves on her damp cheeks and beads of sweat that had formed on her brow.

"Ben, please." His heart fluttered with anticipation. "Come back with me."

Before he realized what he was doing, Ren kneeled down on the side of his bed and placed his bare hand to the side of her forehead, ever so gently as though not to wake her. The words spilled from his lips before he was aware of what he was saying.

" _I wish for you blue skies overhead_

 _Sunshine to warm your face_

 _Soft grass below your feet_

 _To receive love from those you may meet._

 _Though one day your adventures will take you to the farthest star,_

 _You are strong, resilient_

 _Always remember who you are_

 _May your nightmares end_

 _The darkness flee_

 _In your dreams, come back to me_

Something had stirred inside of Ren, something that had not been awakened in some time. The Alderaanian night blessing naturally fell off his lips as if muscle memory though he had not uttered those words in almost twenty years. He was both shaken and awed. He was not sure who was more comforted now – himself or her, who now appeared to have drifted into a dreamless sleep.

In that moment, his innermost doubts were quieted.

He _would_ be stronger than Darth Vader, a fear once manipulated by the late Supreme Leader and had held him captive for all these years.

He would throw it all away. His compassion would overcome his thirst for power. The galaxy depended on it. Others like them – they did too.

Ren climbed carefully over to the vacant side of the bed as to not disturb the woman who presently shared it due to the ever strange will of the Force that continued to mystify him. Once settled a safe distance, careful that none of his limbs accidentally brushed against hers, he laid his head back against the pillow.

"Goodnight, Rey." He whispered out loud, although he knew did not hear him.

After months of restless nights, it only took moments before sleep overcame him, cautiously optimistic of what the next days would bring.

* * *

"…the End."

Leia closed the book onto her lap and stole a glance down at her son who had fallen asleep curled up against her. His mind, which was often a tumultuous storm of anguish and turmoil, was calm this evening. Perhaps there would be no nightmares tonight, she hoped.

With a slight lean of her head, her lips met the tufts of his thick hair as she recited the nighttime blessing from her home world, but not without a slight ache in her heart.

 _…..May your nightmares end_

 _The darkness flee_

 _In your dreams, come back to me."_

She finished with a kiss at the top of his head. Sensing a shift in her surroundings, she brought her gaze upward to find her husband leaned against the doorframe. No amount of feasible years could pass where his rugged appearance would no longer cause her heart to skip a beat. With his silvering hair and opened top couple of buttons on his wrinkled shirt he insisted on wearing, she all but forgot she was supposed to still be cross with him.

"How is he?" He asked, a bit sheepishly.

"Good, asleep now."

Han took a few strides towards her to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'll take him to bed."

Leia reigned in an eye roll as he gently collected Ben from her arms. "You have always been notorious for coming in and saving the day last minute." She chided, teasingly.

"I know, I'm sorry." His embarrassed expression was promptly replaced with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe I'll find a way to make it up to you." He growled.

Leia huffed, but returned his smirk. "We'll see."

With that, Han carried Ren down the hallway to his room, mindful of Ben's gangly legs as he stepped through the door to the bedroom. Ben barely stirred as he eased him onto the bed and pulled the fleecy quilt over him. A kiss on the forehead and an additional tuck of blankets, Han walked noiselessly to the door before a faint voice called out to him.

"Dad?"

Han halted at the door before turning around on his heels to face his son: his pride, his joy, he and Leia's legacy. His eyes were still closed, heavy from sleep.

"I love you." Ben Solo proclaimed groggily in a small voice.

His father smiled, his heart filled with more love than he ever thought was possible to find in this galaxy.

"I know."

* * *

the end

* * *

 **A/N:** Ultimately, this section took longer than usual for me because I wanted to get to a place where the conversation between Luke and Kylo Ren just felt _right._ Hopefully I succeeded and hopefully you enjoyed it!

Thank you for all your reviews and song recommendations, those helped my writer's block a TON.

Please let me know what you all thought! Your reviews have been nothing short of magical and great guidance as to what you like/want to see in a fan fiction!

Until next time,

xox rose


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